


No Other Choice

by LUZ_DE_ROC



Category: Acacias 38 (TV), Maitino - Fandom
Genre: Camino and Maite - Freeform, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Maitino, Romance, acacias 38 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LUZ_DE_ROC/pseuds/LUZ_DE_ROC
Summary: Maite returns after months away from Camino. One Shot.
Relationships: Maite Zaldúa/Camino Pasamar, Maitino - Relationship
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	No Other Choice

**Author's Note:**

> The Good News: We all know that she's returning! Maite. Is. Coming. Back. And I can feel Maitiners' joy around the globe.
> 
> The Bad News: This #^%@$! virus is most likely going to change what that return looks like, and it might not be exactly what we hoped.
> 
> The Good News about the Bad News: You can do ANYTHING in fanfic. *grin*
> 
> This is my version of her return. A girl can dream. (And apparently my dreams border on the smutty side.) It was a bit longer than I envisioned, but I trust you won't mind.
> 
> Please enjoy. And if you do, or if you have a comment, I would very much like to hear from you - I work exclusively for feedback!
> 
> Meanwhile, we'll wait together for that famous beret to return to the streets of Acacias! :)

When the doorbell rang, Camino was honestly annoyed.

She had just sat down to write to her brother, something she’d been putting off for weeks. It was hard for her to put into words what had been happening in her life recently – she didn’t want to lie to him, but she also didn’t want to worry him. They were an ocean apart and he had a new wife and a baby on the way, yet he would somehow still feel the need to try to help her. She loved that about her older brother, but she also didn’t want to cause him undue stress, especially when there was little he could do. Still, she had to write. If she didn’t soon, he’d know something was wrong anyway, and he’d pester her until she came clean.

Ildefonso had finally left the house after days of shutting himself up, mostly in his room. This morning she’d managed to convince him to go out for a few hours, to do anything other than hide in their house. He hadn’t wanted to, but after Camino insisted that some fresh air would do him good, he finally took a book and said he’d go to the park to read. It was a start. And it gave Camino a chance to sit down and catch up on her correspondence.

She fixed a cup of tea and pulled out her stationary and pen, determined to somehow be honest with her brother while also trying not to alarm him. But it was not long after she began to write that the doorbell announced a visitor, and it was with more than some irritation that she stood to see who it was. She prayed it wasn’t Annabel trying to apologize again or worse, her mother. The last thing she wanted to do right now was go another round of I-was-just-trying-to-do-what-was-best-for-you with her. She didn’t know what she was going to do if everyone didn’t stop trying to take such good care her.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open.

And froze dead in her tracks.

Because standing in front of her was the one person she was afraid she’d never see again.

And the one person she needed to see more than anything.

Her love.

Her heart.

Maite.

Standing mere feet in front of her was the person who, despite the promises and the letters and the hope that burned in her chest every day, felt further and further away as time slipped by.

Camino’s hand gripped the door handle as she locked eyes with the older woman. She wanted to move toward her, to touch her but she could do nothing more than stare, as if her body had suddenly and completely forgotten how to function. The only way she knew she was even still breathing was because she hadn’t passed out yet.

“Hola, amor mío.”

The voice she hadn’t heard in months, soft and lilting, reached her ears, and if possible, she gripped the door handle harder in an effort to stop the trembling that was starting in her arms and legs.

“Maite,” she whispered at last, the name both familiar and strange on her tongue.

She felt dizzy almost at once, and her eyes frantically searched the woman standing in her doorway in an effort to ground herself.

Maite was wearing the same beret that she’d been wearing that day on the bridge – the last bright color Camino had seen before she’d disappeared into the carriage – the pink sharp against the dark hair pinned neatly underneath. The camel-colored coat was also the same, though not cinched in deference to the warmer weather. Underneath, Camino glimpsed an outfit she hadn’t seen before – dark blue trousers paired with a light blue and white patterned blouse, the vee of which revealed the line of the artist’s collarbone.

Her gaze rose to meet Maite’s again, this time noting the hope in them, as well as the uncertainty, and the ever-present hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It was an expression that Camino knew well, and yet she still couldn’t completely accept she was seeing it in person.

There were a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue, but all she could manage to say in that moment was, “¿Qué haces aquí?”

Maite took a moment to answer, her mouth opening and closing several times as she chose her words. The fingers of her left hand twitched briefly, and Camino knew she was experiencing just as many emotions as she was.

“Camino,” Maite shook her head, and Camino saw the tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t stay away anymore….I tried. I promise you…I tried. I know I told you it was too soon, but.…” she trailed off, the helplessness in her voice telling Camino everything she couldn’t say. And Camino understood because it was everything she’d been feeling since the day Maite had left – the constant restlessness, the inescapable feeling that a vital piece of her life had been ripped away, the desire she struggled against every day to just leave everything behind to go be with the person she wanted most in this world.

Camino nodded, the tears that came so easily these days pricking at the back of her eyes.

“Yo entiendo.”

They both fell silent, eyes trained on each other, and Camino wondered if they might stay that way indefinitely. For her part, Camino was confident that without the door’s assistance, she might not remain upright, and Maite looked as if some physical force was holding her at the threshold. And so they stood, trying to say with their eyes everything they couldn’t say out loud at the moment.

She had no idea which one of them moved first.

All she knew was that one second she was rooted to the spot where she’d been since she opened the door, and the next moment, she was in Maite’s arms, wrapped in her embrace, her hands clenching the back of her coat, just like she had the day she’d had to say goodbye. But this time, the second that her hands grasped the material, she knew she was never letting go. Not ever again.

The solid feel of Maite against her at last confirmed that this was real, that it wasn’t something her mind was manufacturing, and she buried her face in her shoulder, the tears that had been threatening at last spilling over as she whispered Maite’s name again and again.

And Maite held her, her hands rubbing soothingly over her back as she cried, murmuring, “Está bien. Shhhh….Yo estoy aquí. Estoy aquí.”

Camino wrapped her arms even tighter around Maite, some part of her convinced that if she let go, she would simply disappear. She inhaled Maite’s scent, every bit as sweet as she remembered, doing her best to calm down as she listened to the sound of her voice.

Her breathing began to even out.

“Camino, you’re shaking,” Maite said gently as the younger woman eventually quieted. Camino took a deep breath.

“So are you,” she mumbled into Maite’s neck. She could feel how unsteady both of them were, and how Maite’s heart was thumping hard against her chest.

“Mi niña,” she heard as Maite pulled back, forcing Camino to loosen her death grip on her coat. “My beautiful girl,” she said, her hands coming up to cup Camino’s face, her thumbs swiping at the tears still there. She smiled. “I have missed you so much.”

Camino leaned into her touch, closing her eyes, the soft press of Maite’s fingers against her skin making her exhale sharply as she fought against a fresh wave of tears. She let her hands sweep up to Maite’s shoulder, up her neck, until she could slide them along Maite’s cheeks, echoing Maite’s hold on her.

She opened her eyes to find bright brown ones gazing back at her – filled with tears but steady and sure.

“Are you really here?”

That earned her a soft chuckle.

“Sí. I’m really here.”

Camino shook her head.

“How?”

Maite’s hands continued to brush softly over Camino’s face, tucking back errant strands of hair, knuckles tracing her jawline.

“I didn’t have a choice, Camino.” She smiled. “It seems I’ve never had a choice when it comes to you. Everything in me was screaming to come back. And in the end I either had to listen or go crazy.” A finger tapped Camino tenderly on the nose. “And I didn’t want to go crazy.”

Camino smiled at that.

“Te echado de menos,” she said. “More than I can possibly say.”

“Lo sé,” Maite responded. “I couldn’t be without you for one more day.” She tilted her head slightly to look up at Camino.

The younger woman, looking back, stroked the soft skin just below Maite’s ears with her thumbs while her other fingers caressed the nape of her neck.

And as she continued to do so, she suddenly became very aware that their faces were mere inches apart.

She took a breath as her eyes flicked to Maite’s before dropping down to land on her mouth. She saw the older woman’s lips quirk knowingly, but she remained still, waiting. And Camino almost started crying again, knowing that the simple act of allowing her to make the choice was a gift. She’d had so very little of that in her life, even less so recently, and she was once again reminded how with Maite, there was never any doubt that her voice mattered.

Camino smiled, genuinely and openly, her heart full. She slid her hands around the back of the artist’s neck, pulling her in.

“Maite,” she whispered before lowering her head slightly and kissing her for the first time in forever.

It was everything she’d been imagining for months – the familiar feel of her lips against hers, the way they fit together, the way Maite’s mouth opened under hers. She whined softly as their tongues slid against each other at last.

Camino still couldn’t believe this was happening. And yet, against all odds, it was. The woman she loved had returned to her, and she was in her arms. Kissing her. And the happiness she felt was immeasurable.

They finally pulled away from each other, both breaking into wide smiles as they titled their foreheads against each other.

Maite rubbed her thumb against Camino’s bottom lip.

“I have thought about kissing you every day since the day I left. And yet nothing I imagined even came close to this, right now.”

“I feel the same way,” Camino replied before leaning down for another slow kiss. “There were days…too many…that I thought our chance to do this was gone.”

She kissed Maite again.

And again.

And as she did, as she pressed closer to her, her body reacted at once in a way that it only did when close to this woman.

She felt herself start to shake again, somehow surprised by the desire that Maite seemed to so effortlessly trigger in her. In all these months, in her darker moments, she had worried that things might have changed, that what they had was maybe just a moment in time, that what Maite had once told her was true – some things only had a moment of beauty.

But the way she felt right now, kissing Maite, the need she felt deep within, she knew that for them, it wasn’t true. What they had was more than a fleeting moment, and she didn’t want to waste another second.

She pulled away from Maite just enough to take her hand and tug her gently toward the hallway.

“Come,” she said.

But Maite pulled back against Camino.

“Camino,” she said, hesitation in her voice, “What about –”

“No te preocupes,” Camino cut her off, knowing exactly where the question was going, “He’s gone for the afternoon. Estamos solas.”

Maite glanced behind her at the door before she searched Camino’s eyes, and then nodded. She let go of her hand to shut the door firmly, and then held it back out to the younger woman.

“Bueno.”

Camino laced her fingers with Maite’s and led her down the hall to her bedroom.

She felt a little strange that this didn’t feel stranger. She knew that she should feel some guilt that this was the house she had with her husband, that she was about to break one of the vows she made on her wedding day. But for her, the respect and affection that she had for Ildefonso had little to do with how her heart felt about Maite. There was no comparison, and she could no more deny what was about to happen than she could stop the seasons from changing. It was pointless to try.

She pulled Maite through the doorway of her room, turning toward her, pulling her close, and the older woman wasted no time in kissing her again, slowly and deeply.

“Dios,” she managed against Maite’s mouth. She felt the older woman smile before she separated from Camino just enough to shed her coat and beret, turning to place them on the armchair behind her.

And as she did, Camino noticed the flash of something white against the artist’s dark hair. She locked eyes with Maite as she turned back toward her and reached up. Maite stilled as Camino carefully pulled out the pearl-colored hairpin and studied it. It was slightly different than hers, rounded at the top, but clearly from the same set. She held it in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it reverently.

She then reached up with her other hand, sliding the pin from her own hair and laid it next to the one she was already holding.

They both looked down at the matching set.

“I’ve worn mine every day,” Camino confessed. “Every day. No one knew. But I knew. You’ve always been with me.”

Maite closed her hand over Camino’s.

“I knew you would. As have I. I know it wasn’t much, but –”

Camino stopped her with a kiss.

“It was everything.”

Maite smiled, but Camino saw the sadness in her eyes.

She carefully pulled her hand away and moved to place the pins side by side on the dresser.

“Maite,” she said, returning to her and taking her hands, “Every day, it helped me. It gave me strength on the days I didn’t feel very strong. It was the thing that was all mine at a time when I felt very little was. The day it arrived was the happiest I’d been since….”

“…Since that day on the bridge.” Maite finished. Maite let go of Camino’s hands to frame her face, and Camino saw the pain in her eyes. “Camino, I am so sorry I left. I am so sorry. I should never have left you here.”

Camino shook her head.

“Gracias, mi amor, but you don’t have to apologize. It’s behind us. You’re here. That’s what matters. Y te amo.”

Maite held her gaze as long seconds went by. She finally nodded and leaned in, touching her lips to Camino’s.

“Y yo a ti,” she replied.

Camino knew there was more to say, more they had to talk about. But for now, in this moment, loving each other was all they needed.

She reached up, finding the skin exposed by the cut of Maite’s shirt, the pads of her fingers tracing along her collarbone. Maite blinked slowly at the touch, and Camino saw the tension in her start to ebb away.

“Right now, just be with me. Por favor.”

Looking straight at her, Maite took one of her hands in her own, brought it to her mouth, and kissed her palm.

“I want that more than anything, but…” her gaze wandered somewhere behind Camino, and the younger woman noticed her discomfort once more.

As Camino turned to follow her gaze, she saw that it landed on the bed behind her, and she understood. She turned back, directing Maite’s eyes back to her own.

“This is my room,” she assured her, “Just mine.”

And with those words, Camino saw the last of the uncertainly leave Maite’s eyes. The softness she knew so well returned to them, as well as something else she recognized immediately – the look Maite got when she wanted something. Specifically, her. And Camino felt a shiver run through her body.

It turned out they were also the last words between them as they reached for each other. Maite’s hands landed on Camino’s waist, tugging her hips against her own. The younger woman gasped as heat flared low in her belly, steadying herself with her hands on Maite’s upper arms.

It was very nearly overwhelming.

And Camino had never wanted anything so much in her life.

From there, everything happened all at once.

Clothes were discarded as quickly as they could manage, mouths hungry against each other, hands moving over heated skin.

There was no finesse in their movement as they tumbled onto the bed together, touching and tasting. They pressed hard against each other, fervently; the hurt and the frustration and pain they’d both been carrying for months having created an intense need neither one could manage. Not that either one of them was particularly trying.

They simply gave in.

And in doing so, in accepting what the time away from one another had meant for both of them, they were finally free – free to feel what everyone told them to deny, free to make the choice to be in this moment, and free to rediscover each other.

Each kiss was a reminder of everything they’d been missing. Each touch made them impatient for more. Camino nearly came undone as Maite’s mouth traveled along her inner thigh, and in turn, Maite moaned low in Camino’s ear as the younger woman’s fingers closed over the sensitive flesh of her breast.

Camino knew this could not last long, not at the rate they were going, bodies straining against each other, searching desperately for release.

And she was not wrong.

No sooner had the thought occurred to her than Maite’s fingers slipped between Camino’s legs, and Camino groaned her name, bending toward her. Moments later, she heard Maite’s inarticulate reply as Camino mirrored her action, her own fingers finding the soft heat at the apex of Maite’s legs.

And they both began to move in a rhythm, a rhythm born of a confidence of knowing each other so well, as though no time had passed.

As each drew the other ever closer to the edge, wrapped around each other, their mouths connected again and again, neither seeming to believe they could get close enough, and Camino felt like every part of her was on fire.

It was Maite who fell over the edge first.

With a hard gasp, her body went rigid, clenching around Camino’s fingers, eyes wide.

And Camino, witnessing her release, followed seconds later, arching against Maite, the fingers of her free hand digging hard into her shoulder blades.

They collapsed against each other, clutching one another just as hard as they had in the doorway, neither willing to be the first to give up contact.

Camino buried her face in Maite’s neck, exhaling against her damp skin. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

And then she unexpectedly broke out in a wide grin, chuckling to herself.

Maite stirred beneath her, lips against her forehead.

“¿Qué?” she asked, her voice sleepy.

Camino turned her head, pressing a soft kiss to Maite’s shoulder, still smiling.

“Welcome home,” she said, unable to keep the laughter from bubbling up around the words.

Maite snorted, and then she, too, was laughing, until they were both helpless with it, the sound bouncing around the room. It was so full of joy and hope, and Camino couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such lightness.

Eventually, they both caught their breath, and they were left lying quietly side by side, hands twined, legs tucked together. Dark eyes studied each other.

Camino kissed the tips of Maite’s fingers.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

Maite sighed and shook her head.

“No lo sé, amor mío. But I do know I will never allow myself to be separated from you again. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, te lo prometo. Together.”

And Camino settled back against Maite, the safety of her words wrapping around her.

For now, it was enough.


End file.
